Shannon Mortenson

Not so sweet on Candy Crush

Candy Crush. It makes me cringe. Migraines set in. My eyes cross at the thought. I’m swarmed with angst and post-traumatic memories of sugary goodness. A rush of sweet, colorful defeat. The reason for uprising support groups targeting technology addiction.

We all know Candy Crush, or have heard endless horror stories of fallen victims. We experience those unrelenting Facebook requests, office water-cooler chat and train station rants regarding desperation for extra lives.

“What’s the big deal? It’s just a game.”

No. No it’s not. That’s how it starts. It’s like a cult, but an app. Once you’re sucked in, it’s almost impossible to escape. Evil, evil stuff…

This “app” was deleted promptly. The insanity that ensued throughout my frustrated brain stem had an intensity comparable to shrooms. Clearly I was playing when you could hear me down the street yelling at my phone to go fuck its mother. This gem of a game is surely the cause behind thousands, if not millions, of foul moods worldwide. Not to mention broken smartphones, and ultimately, psychosis.

Mixing, matching and crushing candies of all colors, shapes and sizes… not to mention those devilish jellybeans from Hell. As the points skyrocket, one cannot deny the soulful elation of victory whilst watching those “Helly-beans” dance across your (probably) cracked screen. Definitely an “Oh hayyyyyyyyyy! hashtag-winning!” moment.

However, were those four seconds of useless bliss worth the worried whispers of onlookers? You beat the level. Good for you, guy. Did you get all three stars? Oh, no? You didn’t? Damn, well then have fun playing that level for another month and half, because your nagging OCD won’t let you continue until you complete the level perfectly.

Logging onto Facebook, and having 37 requests for extra Candy Crush lives. Seriously? I felt rage. Yes, actual rage. Anger. Madness, swishing and swirling about in my mind. I was powerless against the “crushing” force of the fad. (See what I did there?) I could do nothing to stop the desperate cries for help, and nothing but ignore the pleas. I refuse to enable others’ destructive habits.

Don’t even get me started on the “hard-core players” who actually spend money on little (and, over time, expensive) extras to surpass levels along the way. I for real know someone who would go broke weekly because of Candy Crush purchases. Yeah, a dollar here and there… not bad. Not great, but okay, if you must.

I can’t imagine getting so into a game that it eventually starts to affect life decisions.

“Do I go for that Super Ultimate Mega Supreme Life Package for the Ultra Deluxe Extreme low, low price of $5.99? Or do I go to Stop ‘N Shop and buy toilet paper and dog food?”

The obsession grabs at you, and is absolutely ridiculous. If you’re not careful, it will have you by the balls. The device with which you play Candy Crush never leaves your sight. The thought of beating a level never leaves your mind.

The rest of the time, I see “So and So completed Level 167 in Candy Crush” or “What’s His Nuts completed level 254 in Candy Crush.” Ummm… WHAT?! Level 254? Who are you, Mother Theresa? Like, let me see that. Gimme your phone, dude. I know it’s smashed. Who fucking really has time to get that far and lives to tell about it? Seriously, this just completely *pfffffffff* buh-lows my mind. We live in a technological era, but once I was finally able to exorcize the sugary, demonic spell, I hit delete. I was saved! I had been an innocent, almost powerless victim of the Candy Crush curse.

Luckily I wasn’t “in the zone” too long. This was one instance where my lack of patience was a benefit to me in life. I gave up after seven weeks, mainly because four of those seven were spent trying to get past Level 17. SEVENTEEN. Oooooohhhhhhh, those wicked, sweetly colored demon treats. Makes me one angry bird.

Share this:

There is something so magic to the fact a Face Book conversation and some Traveling Pants…sharing dreams…sweaty strippers with dirty dollars…Giant panties…a couple dumb boys to bitch about…kindred spirits led you right here to the start of the Yellow Brick Road. God Speed to Oz my friend you are well on your way.

David Lacy

Maya North

I have so avoided this game. Not so bubble shooters, but I will not and will NEVER pay for any extras (like 5 more bubbles for $2!!!). My real game is World of Warcraft, which I play with a chihuahua sleeping in my oversized sports bra 😉 And yes, I have TWO level 90s 😉 😀

Shannon, I tried to leave a comment but for some reason it won’t let me say anything. Either that or Debra and David have barred me from making comments. I was gonna say something important too. Welcome to iPinion and please don’t write better than I do, it makes me look bad.
Donald

There is something so magic to the fact a Face Book conversation and some Traveling Pants…sharing dreams…sweaty strippers with dirty dollars…Giant panties…a couple dumb boys to bitch about…kindred spirits led you right here to the start of the Yellow Brick Road. God Speed to Oz my friend you are well on your way.

David Lacy

Welcome aboard! A great first column, and as the fiance of a Candy Crush addict I can vouch for the veracity of all of this!

Maya North

I have so avoided this game. Not so bubble shooters, but I will not and will NEVER pay for any extras (like 5 more bubbles for $2!!!). My real game is World of Warcraft, which I play with a chihuahua sleeping in my oversized sports bra 😉 And yes, I have TWO level 90s 😉 😀

Shannon, I tried to leave a comment but for some reason it won’t let me say anything. Either that or Debra and David have barred me from making comments. I was gonna say something important too. Welcome to iPinion and please don’t write better than I do, it makes me look bad.
Donald